“Should I come with you, My Lord?” Donohue asked, but he was already inching towards Evan’s favorite horse.
“There’s no need of it, please stay and do all you can for these three.” Evan left the barn to find the young stable boy, leaving the hands confused and more than a little bit alarmed.
“Tis just like last week,” one of them muttered to another, but Donohue turned when he heard the young man speak.
“What? What happened last week?” he demanded, and the young hand flinched before answering.
“I’m sorry, sir. I thought you knew. Were you not here when we caught a man pouring something in the horse trough?” The young man stared wide-eyed until Donohue stopped sputtering and his face returned to a more normal shade.
“Why did I not know about this? What was it he poured in there?”
“I know not, sir. He would’na answer, and after we beat him bloody for a bit, he took off running. He went that direction, but that’s all we knew.”
The other stable hands nodded, as though this was common knowledge. Donohue looked at each of them in turn and said, “From here on out, nothing goes on here that I don’t know of it! Someone has twice come to this farm and interfered with His Lordship’s prize horses. I’m to know of anything out of the ordinary, no matter how trivial!”
A chorus of “yes sirs” rounded the group and Donohue ordered them back to work. The three who were to sit with the sickly horses set about their tasks, filling fresh buckets of water to take into the stalls with them.
* * *
“Almost ready, Harriet?” Marjorie asked, tucking in the ribbons on the front of her dress as she passed her sister’s door.
“I think so,” Harriet replied, opening the door but looking uncertain. “Do I look all right?”
“You look perfectly wonderful, but we must hurry. It wouldn’t do to be very late tonight. Balls are one thing, where those in attendance might come and go. A dinner is a whole other matter. We’re expected at a certain time in order for the meal to be served. Come on!”
“I shall never understand all these rules!” Harriet cried, patting her hair self-consciously and hurrying after her sister as they went downstairs. Their father was already waiting for them by the door, his hat in hand and his coat buttoned.
“I’m sorry, Father! I’m the one who’s made us late,” Harriet fretted breathlessly.
“Nonsense, we’ve plenty of time,” he answered kindly, smiling at his younger daughter. “But only if we leave now.”
They were mostly silent on the ride to the Earl of Lanercost’s home, other than to exchange comments on what the evening might hold. The Marquess reminded his daughters that having Harriet “seen” at these events was of the utmost importance now that Marjorie was betrothed. For her part, Marjorie only rolled her eyes, filled with a mixture of revulsion at the match and relief that she was no longer on display at these affairs. Harriet sat beside her trembling, plucking at the strings of her reticule until Marjorie thought she might fray them into pieces.
The evening air was pleasant, a welcome change from the heat of the day despite the many layers the sisters wore. Still, Marjorie chanced a look at her father once or twice and noted that he was overly uncomfortable in his evening clothes.Or did he always look so unwell, she wondered. How long had it been since he’d seemed the picture of health, the robust man who once used to enjoy long rides with his wife?
Those days were long ago, she realized sadly. After her mother’s fall, her father wanted nothing to do with the horses. She remembered a brief flash of terror, the day of her mother’s death, the day her father had carried his hunting rifle to the stables…
Stop it!she chided herself inwardly.There’s no sense in reliving that now, it will only put you in a melancholy mood for dinner and then what would that serve?Marjorie was already not in the best of spirits these days and would have to put on a pleasant demeanor all evening. She didn’t need the added weight of painful memories.
“Ah, here we are,” he said brightly as the carriage arrived in front of the estate house. A liveried footman stood tall at the stairs and held the horses while another one opened the door to the carriage, placing a sturdy box below for the ladies to descend.
“Remember, daughters. Portray us well at all times,” he hissed urgently as they climbed the stairs together. “Our fortunes and futures depend on it.”
Together, the three of them were announced and led into the parlor where many of the other guests had already arrived. Marjorie felt Harriet clutch her arm in earnest, her nerves getting the better of her.
“Shhhh, be calm. See there, you’ve already met the countess once before. Let us speak to her first,” Marjorie whispered before raising a hand in greeting and leading her sister over to where the woman was seated and speaking to a handful of other ladies. She and Harriet dropped politely into a slight curtsey before Marjorie said, “Lady Lanercost, it is wonderful to see you again, many thanks for inviting us to your dinner this evening.”
“My dear Lady Marjorie, Lady Harriet! You are most welcome,” the woman said brightly, gesturing with her fan for them to sit nearby. “Tell me, how is your father?”
Marjorie nodded in his direction where he was already deep in conversation with several men, and said with a laugh, “He is well, and will certainly be over to speak to you as soon as he’s finished learning all the latest business news from the ton!”
“And you, Lady Harriet? How are you enjoying your first season’s events?” the countess asked politely, but Harriet froze, a look of pure fright on her face. She cast her eyes to Marjorie, who recovered and spoke up for her.
“I’m afraid it’s all still quite much for Harriet. She has been studying diligently though, and has made wonderful progress with a dance master Father contracted recently. I’ve quite enjoyed her lessons myself! I’ve learned ever so many new dances with her.”
“Ah yes! I remember those days so fondly!” the countess added, patting Harriet’s hand and giving her a reassuring smile before addressing the others. “My sisters and I—there were five of us, can you imagine—would look forward to our dancing lessons so much that Father insisted they be held at the end of each day. Mother would threaten us most cruelly, though, promising us she would cancel our lesson that day if we did not master our other lessons first!”
Soon enough, Marjorie and Harriet were engaged in conversation around the room, always looking to their father to ensure he was attended to and speaking with someone. It would not do to have him stand off to the side, brooding silently and alone.
